


Dinner

by Cardgamesonmotorcycles



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardgamesonmotorcycles/pseuds/Cardgamesonmotorcycles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nezumi and Shion eating dinner with the mice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

I wonder how long he’s been gone now. The only sound in the small underground room is the constant pacing of my footsteps, reverberating off the stone walls. I sigh and wish for the hundreth time that one of us owned a clock or watch. There was no way to sense the hours passing down here, it was like being in a tomb, suspended permenantly in the same time.  
I try to spend the days productively, I prepare dinner for when he returns, usually a thin soup or a stew if we’re lucky enough to get meat. Occasionally we have bad weeks and we have to get by on stale bread or whatever he’s skilled enough to steal or charm out of storekeepers. I tidy round, though in such a small room there’s never much to do. Not to mention that you can only clean an underground room so much. The damp always creeps back, as does the musty smell, and a stone floor can only take so much sweeping. I make his bed every morning, but it only takes minutes to re-fluff the pillow and smooth out the blankets that have become tangled and crumpled in sleep. I tidy my bed too, folding my blanket neatly and laying it over the back of the sofa where I spend the night-time hours. Of course I have his mice to keep me company, Hamlet and Cravat tend to stay within sight on the bed where they occasionally squeak happily or chase each other round in some game. Moonlit must follow him to work, as he leaves just after him every morning and returns just as we’re eating dinner in the evening. The mice watch as I pace, whiskers twitching and large ears perking up, expecting their master home soon. I notice their alertness and stop my pacing, placing the pre-made pan of watery vegetable soup on the stove and lighting it. I was never sure what to be doing when he came home, cleaning like a houswife? Or sitting on the sofa reading one of his many books like a lazy lodger? In the end I didn’t have a choice to worry over my decision. I was busy stirring the soup when I heard the door swing open and his booted feet enter the room behind me without a word of aknowledgement. I span round to greet him, dropping the wooden spoon on the floor in the process. His grey eyes caught my pink as the spoon clattered and he raised his eyebrow in amusement, causing a bright red blush to linger on my cheeks and nose. I must have stayed stationary for a fraction too long because he rolled his eyes and walked past me to sit heavily on the sofa.  
“You gunna pick that up?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice.  
“Huh?” I asked, momentarily confused.  
“The spoon.” He monotoned, grey eyes not leaving my flustered form.  
“Ah, yes! Of course, sorry!” The words spilled out of my mouth in an almost illegible garble as I reached down and rapidly picked up the spoon, cheeks once again bright red under his gaze. I wiped the spoon to a state near clean on a cloth nearby then continued to stir the gently bubbling soup. His eyes left me a moment later as Moonlit appeared on his shoulder and I breather a silent sigh of relief.  
“How was work?” I asked conversationally, glancing up from the soup to see him stroking Moonlit with a tender look he reserved for his mice and, very occasionally when he thought I wasn’t looking, me.  
His eyes didn’t leave Moonlit’s soft black fur and he answered in the bored voice he used for what he thought of as ‘pointless smalltalk.’  
“Not too bad. We started a new play today so we just read through the script.”  
I nodded as I ladled out the soup, even though I knew he wasn’t watching me.  
“Which play?” I asked politely, partly out of curiosity, partly because I hoped I might be able to run lines with him, something I secretly loved.  
“Romeo and Juliet,” he replied, his voice scornful.  
“Oh, I like that one!” I replied enthusiastically. To be totally honest I had only read it twice, and only very recently, but I had enjoyed it. I turned towards him and offered him a bowl of soup, which he took with a nod of thanks and a small smile, reward enough for my efforts. I took my place beside him on the sofa and sipped my soup, disheartened by the watery flavour and gritty texture that came from not washing the vegetables properly. I sighed internally at my inabilty to welcome Nezumi home with a decent hot meal, and wished, not for the first time, that I was of more use to him. I saw Nezumi lift his own bowl to his lips and take a sip, settling the bowl back in his lap before smiling gently and whispering, “Delicious.”  
I felt my face light up with happiness at his simple statement and the smile that accompanied it and I drank my soup with increased vigour. We ate our meal in comfortable silence as usual, the mice sitting on the table in front of us, waiting for the leftovers.  
Nezumi finished his soup just after me and I took his bowl from him, resting it on the table for the mice, who rushed forward to eat the pieces of mushy carrot and potato that he had left. Nezumi chuckled as Hamlet, in his haste for food, fell into one of the bowls and sat there squeaking indignantly, covered in cold soup. As Nezumi made no move to free him I reached forward and tipped the bowl onto it’s side slowly, allowing Hamlet to get free and Moonlit and Cravat to have easier access to their food.  
Nezumi sighed contentedly and stretched upwards, one arm falling to rest along the back of the couch, just behind my head. His hand absently started to play with my white hair, running his fingers through it gently, in a reassuring motion. I smiled and leant back into his touch, closing my eyes in relaxation. I loved these moments, quiet and tender, where just the two of us could be together.  
“Dinner was excellent, as always.” He said, not one hint of sarcasm in his voice. “But.. I felt it was missing something.”  
I opened my eyes and looked at him in confusion, surely there were lots of things missing from it. Meat, proper seasoning, more vegetables. He looked amused at my confusion, and his eyes held a playful, teasing look that I knew too well.  
“What?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.  
He smirked and leant in closer to me, so close I could feel his warm breath on my face, smell his scent, damp and old books. A blush spread across my cheeks as his face hesitated millimetres from mine. Time seemed to stop as he closed the tiny gap between us and covered my lips with his, his hand still in my hair, gently caressing my scalp. I felt him smile as I responded and moved my lips in synch with his, deepening the contact. After what felt like a million years but also only a second, he pulled back, smug look in his eyes that left me even more confused than I had been before.  
He grinned and stood from the sofa, standing imposingly over me.  
“What..” I stammered, “what was that?”  
He bent down til his mouth was level with my ear and nuzzled my neck with his nose, causing me to inhale sharply in surpise.  
“Dessert.”


End file.
